


Silver and Shadows

by coyote-tango (smithandrogers), smithandrogers



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Asexual Daud (Dishonored), Canon-Typical Sexism, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:55:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23926498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smithandrogers/pseuds/coyote-tango, https://archiveofourown.org/users/smithandrogers/pseuds/smithandrogers
Summary: A young Daud finds himself involved with a mysterious thief. He cannot abide a mystery.
Relationships: Daud/Original Female Character
Comments: 3
Kudos: 19





	1. Contract: Recover Artifacts, Eliminate Thief

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so, to preface: this is entirely self-indulgent.  
> The female character is built around the idea that perhaps there are other shifty gods out there giving their patronage, not just the Outsider.  
> I have never written anything for Dishonored before, so if something is OOC, let me know!  
> Tags will update as we go.  
> Feedback is very much appreciated!

The city’s elite had been left reeling from a rash of thefts; artifacts they had so carefully plundered were being stolen out from under them. So, as they often did when they found the officials in their pockets inefficient, they called upon him. Six different wealthy families clamoring to fill his young and infamous pockets in return for their prizes and a seventh demanding protection for theirs: the last in the set.

“And when you find the menace,” Spat the final lord he visited, “End them.”

He shoved another pouch of coins into Daud’s hand and the deal was done. It would be a boring job, inching towards sickeningly easy, but the money was good. The thief would be making their final act.

As night fell, he found himself a perch in the lord’s trophy room and waited. There was no sense in hunting down the thief when he knew the one place they would eventually be. He expected some maid or butler to slip in after the estate had fallen asleep; someone who had no doubt spent sometime casing the place, memorizing the guard schedule and the layout of the house, but as the night wore on, no one entered. As dawn approached, he was contemplating passing this on to one of his apprentices. He wasn’t going to sit here every night, waiting. Just as his patience was wearing thin, there was a click. Almost imperceptible, but in the silence of the room, noticeable. The window slid open and in slipped the thief. They were dressed unusually nice, with a sharp cut vest and jacket, all in black. Their tall boots had fine metal trappings that somehow remained silent with each step. A silver mask caught the moonlight that filtered in through the window, a striking visage. He watched them move towards the case that held their prize, feeling slightly impressed. This room was on the third floor, no easy feat for a regular person.

They regarded the case for a few moments, inspecting it, before settling on picking the lock. They removed the runed gemstone with care and slipped it in their pocket. Back out the window they went, in and out in a silent five minutes. He followed slowly, maintaining a healthy distance. They had dropped onto the balcony below. He frowned, watching them leap the gap to the estate wall. It seemed a little far to be made so easily. A little intrigued, he matched the path they took through the city. They were knowledgeable of patrol routes, choosing paths that he himself would have taken, but were fairly difficult for someone who couldn’t simply transverse from ledge to ledge. Yet they moved with an unsettling ease.

Finally, as they reached the docks, his quarry slowed their pace, dropping down onto a secluded walkway that led under a nearby bridge. In the back of his mind, Daud silently hoped this wouldn’t end up in the sewers. He hated the sewers. The thief paused, looking out onto the harbor. This seemed an odd time to admire the view, but then they turned, and it seemed that silver face was looking at him. Then they waved, indignant. Daud traced their path in his head, wondering at what point he had gotten too close. “We’re not going any further.” They announced.

A woman’s voice. Daud found himself just as curious as he was annoyed. There were few thieves of great talent in Dunwall and none of them were woman. She didn’t even flinch when he materialized in front of her. She was shorter than he’d realized, barely coming up to his chin. She crossed her arms over her chest. “Are you here for the stones or my head?”

“The stones,” He said, mildly amused at her bluntness, “And your life.” His hand rested on the hilt of his blade.

“I apologize, but you’ll be leaving here empty handed. I’ve no intention of giving you either.”

He tilted his head to the side, “Do you always apologize to men who’ve come to kill you?”

She stepped forward, bettering her stance. “Only when they’re polite about it.”

It had been a long time since he’d had a good fight. She was unarmed but seemed unfazed as he drew his sword and made the first move. And she was fast, out stepping him, dodging his strikes easily. So, he picked up the pace, transversing about the walkway until finally he brought his blade down hard, sure this would be the final blow. Yet she caught the blade against her forearms, shirt sleeves ripping to reveal the armored bracers beneath. He pushed her to her knees, blade inching closer and closer to her neck. Satisfied he had gained the upper hand, he moved to kick her back. Before he could, she twisted her arms just as his balance shifted and surged forward, sending his blade clattering against the stones and tackled him.

He had never been a good grappler; he worked best on his feet. She was, it seemed, snaking her limbs around him instantly, the muscles of her arm flexing against his throat. He twisted, reaching for the knife tucked into his boot. He grabbed her leg with his other hand, shifting her just enough and buried the poisoned blade between her ribs. He would never forget the sound she let out; a surprised little gasp that rang in his ears as her final breaths tickled his neck.

Her grip relaxed and he pulled away, walking over to retrieve his sword, confident that the dead was nearly done. All that had to be done now was question her to find the other stones. He spun around at the sound of a splash. He cursed. She was gone, leaving nothing behind but his dagger and a pool of blood. She was dead, even if she managed to swim somewhere; the poison was of his own creation, but he needed to the other stones she’d stolen. He sopped up some of the blood with a handkerchief and stowed it in his pocket. A witch could be persuaded to track the places she had been. It would take time and money, but it’s what he had promised, and his reputation was everything.

*****

A week later, he awoke to a weight on his stomach. He didn’t even open his eyes. It wasn’t unusual for one of his younger apprentices to test their luck. “You better have a good reason for waking me.”

“I’d say it’s a good one.”

A single swift movement and he had her beneath him, arms pinned behind her back. Dark eyes regarded him from behind a silver mask. _Fuck_ , he thought, _there’s more of them_. She seemed a little offended but didn’t fight his grip. In fact, she wasn’t even dressed for a fight: no armor, no weapons, just a shirt tucked into trousers. “I don’t like games.” He said harshly. “I already killed your friend, give me a good reason not to kill you too.”

“Did you really, though?”

He frowned. She was toying with him surely. “There was enough poison on that blade to kill three men. You expect me to believe that one little thief could survive that?”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” She wriggled a little, hiking her hip up in invitation, “See for yourself.”

He was sure she was lying but there was no harm in proving it. Pulling the shirt loose, he slid his hand up her side, fingertips probing her ribcage. He frowned, finding her skin uncomfortably warm to the touch. His fingers glanced over a defined line in the skin and she inhaled sharply, body tensing from pain. Sure she was faking, he applied pressure to the spot, but quickly released her hands to cover her mouth and muffle the very genuine shriek she let out. Hiking up her shirt, he inspected the area in the weak moonlight. An angry red line marked where the dagger had slipped between her ribs. It had healed, both remarkably and poorly. The poison, which had left dark tendriling marks emanating from the wound had no doubt affected the healing process. The edges of the wound had come together roughly. It would leave a nasty scar.

Daud found himself distracted, however as he placed his hand flat against her skin and the mark on the back of it began to glow. A tingling sensation crept up through his fingertips, spreading across his hands. Whatever power had kept her alive, the Outsider’s mark was soaking it up, pouring cool heat into his veins as the sensation crawled its way up his arm. He’d be foolish to think he was the only one with a patron. Surely, it would be out of the realm of possibility that she was marked in some way as well…

He could hear footsteps moving along the halls. She needed to be gone and quickly, before one of the Whalers decided to drop in unannounced. The thought of those little punks finding this scene… he wouldn’t hear the end of it for weeks. He removed his hand from her mouth as he leaned in close, keeping his voice as low as possible. “What do you want?”

“I brought you a peace offering.” Her eyes darted off to his right, towards his desk. On it sat a wooden box. “You can get paid, and you can stop looking for me, move on to more profitable ventures.”

That solved only one mystery. There were still about ten more he needed answers for. He covered her mouth again and dug his fingers into her side. “How did you find me?”

She tried to pry away his hand. Her grip was incredibly strong, but he was stronger. He paused, allowing her to speak, “I followed one of your Whalers,” She gasped, “It wasn’t easy. No one else could do it.”

His heart was pounding now. It felt like fire was pumping through his veins now; it was making it hard to concentrate. He renewed the pressure on her wound. “What are you?” He demanded.

He pressed until his fingers were wet. Looking down, he found he’d broken through the skin. Blood seeped between his fingers. She kneed him hard, catching him just enough off guard to flip him over using the same move he had used on her, but she had no intention of lingering. She looked back at him just as she reached the window. “I’m just another shadow.”

And she was gone.

Her presence lingered, however. For the next few days, Daud found himself unaware of his strength. He snapped pens, tore pages from books and even shattered a dagger. Bruises would fade within hours of appearing; cuts would seal up with unsettling speed. He was restless, feverish and uncomfortable. He was unable to sleep; his normally composed and cool demeanor cut by the need to drum his fingers and bounce his leg. His body demanded he burn off whatever foreign energy he had exposed it to. After the few days, however, it subsided, leaving him with only more questions.


	2. Contract: Retrieve the Target

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lady Argent has been ruffling feathers among Dunwall's elite with her blunt criticism. Daud is contracted by a particular lord to teach her a lesson. It does not go as planned.

He watched the man pace back and forth across the study, pontificating the misdeeds of one Lady Argent. In reality, they were simply slights, but she had ruffled feathers among Dunwall's upper class and this city it was an offense above all else to them. She had pushed this lord too far and now he wanted her head. “I have a special request.” He announced, finally getting to the point.

Daud remained stone-faced but internally, he was groaning. “Special requests cost extra.”

The man waved his hand. “But of course! Whatever the price.” He stepped in Closer, conspiratorially, “I want you to bring her back here.”

Daud raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

“They say the Lady Argent is an exotic beauty. I wish to… partake in that beauty before her demise.”

The Lord Kenton turned to continue his pacing and Daud swallowed his disgust. It was no business of his what awful things corrupt people did to one another. “They say?”

“Oh, I have never actually seen her. All her lobbying against me, but I have never met her acquaintance.” The wistfulness in his voice was revolting. He had never quite understood these men and their obsession with the flesh. It was only a weakness… and a weakness he could play for his own gain. Daud straightened and took a step forward as the lord moved to stand behind his desk. “I’ll deliver her, but the rest…”

“But of course.” Kenton smiled to himself, “I don’t want her dead, just put in her place. You get her here and the rest,” He let out an unsettling little sigh, “Will be mine to take care of.”

He placed a coin purse on the desk and looked expectantly between it and Daud. “You will have the rest upon delivery. You will find the Lady on her ship, The Hornblower. It’s in the harbor; hard to miss.”

Daud took the money, and with a curt nod, transversed out of the office onto the ledge outside. There was something satisfying about a dramatic exit… but mostly he was just eager to be out of the slimy little man’s presence. Making his way to the roof, he took a parting glance towards the harbor. Even from here, the main sail of a great ship was visible, ghostly in the pale moonlight. “Hard to miss.”

*****

The Hornblower was even grander in the daylight; white sails fluttering in the wind, great carved beams adorning her hull; a wild wolf howling out at the waves from her prow. Though easy to find, it had taken some time to find someone willing to talk about her and her noble passenger. The Lady Argent seemed to have many friends among the dockworkers, but none amongst their bosses. While she was a scholar, on an academic mission, she had taken the captain’s quarters for her own, and the crew treated as if she were their Captain. They were too protective and too well paid to be bribed. Daud had to respect a woman who inspired such dedication. It would be a shame for Kenton to break her.

He had to resort to alternative methods to get aboard the ship. The Lady was to receive an artifact from the Abbey for study. Some music box of a long dead philosopher. It was easy enough to intercept the Overseer making the delivery and take his place. Daud wasn’t fond of disguises, but sometimes the best way in was through the front door.

The sailors took little interest in him as he came aboard. They barely paused to direct him towards Argent's quarters. Some even bumped into him as he made his way across the deck. Daud found their lack of love for the Abbey amusing, unbothered by their passive-aggression.

He moved to knock at the cabin’s door, only for it to swing open at his touch. She obviously wasn’t concerned about security. Inside, the lady stood, back to him, hands splayed on her desk as she scrutinized some papers. “Do you have an appointment?” she asked, not turning to look at him.

She was dressed smartly rather than lavishly; plain grey trousers and vest with a white blouse. Her boots, though heeled, were sturdy and practical. As she turned to look at him expectantly, he noted she wore no jewelry. The Kenton had called her ‘exotic' but her copper skin and dark curls were common in places beyond the pallid confines of Dunwall. “I’m from the Abbey…” he began.

The hard look softened into excitement and she rushed forward, haphazardly clearing off a place on the already crowded table nearest to him. “Of course, please!”

He set down the package and looked up to address her, only to find she had already flitted away, rummaging for something on the other side of the cabin. “I apologize for the insanity,” she said breathlessly, returning with some papers, “My living situation has been…” she sighed, handing the papers to him, “Unpredictable as of late. I was staying as a guest of the emperor,” and she was moving away again, making her way towards a cabinet, “but had to vacate to make room for some countess visiting from somewhere or another,” she produced two glasses and a bottle, making her way back over to him, “Now I am here, waiting for approval for new lodgings.” She set the glasses down and poured out a drink for them both, “And all while still working.”

Her Serkonan accent was slight but unmistakable. She flashed him a harried smile and he took a glass politely. “You have a fine ship. I’m sure you’ll miss it when they move you.”

Her shoulders relaxed and she leaned against the table, appraising the room. “It is a lovely place. As long as you can stomach it. Do you get seasick?”

“No, ma'am.”

“Good! Good. I’ve had visitors who… weren’t so accustomed to being on a ship. It’s best to know before hand so you can be light on your feet.”

He chuckled, allowing himself to be genuinely amused. She seemed too nervous and nervous wouldn’t make this easy. It seemed to do the trick. She smiled a little more warmly and took a sip of her drink. “Oh!” she straightened suddenly, “I almost forgot!”

As she hurried over to her desk, Daud stepped towards the door, but as he moved to close it, he found the doorway block by a tall, hulk of a man. “Has that thing of yours finally arrived milady?” the man asked, pushing past Daud.

He closed the door, swallowing his annoyance. A minor change in plan he could handle. Argent looked up from the drawer she was looking through, a look of thinly veiled displeasure on her face. “Captain, I wasn’t…”

The predatory smile he was giving her wasn’t lost on Daud. “Just wanted to make sure you didn’t have any trouble.” He shoved his hand towards Daud's chest, “Captain Bains, City Watch.”

He shook his hand reluctantly, watching out of the corner of his eye as Argent, thinking their attentions elsewhere, took something from her desk and slipped it inside her vest. Inside his mask, Daud frowned. What did she not want them to find? “Overseer Shaw.” He introduced himself, recalling the unfortunate Overseer's name.

The Captain’s smile tightened and he clapped him on the shoulder. “Enjoying the lady’s hospitality?”

Daud pried his hand out of the man’s grip and stepped out of reach. “I believe Lady Argent was about to open her package.”

The other man immediately picked up the parcel and roughly removed the wrapping, revealing the plain but delicate looking music box. “Seems an odd thing to hold on to.” He said gruffly, looking as if he might drop the thing at any moment.

“A lot can be learned about a person from what they hold dear.” Argent said, watching anxiously as the Captain finally put the box back down, “Our personal items are reflections of ourselves. That music box can tell us as much as a musician’s instrument, a builder’s tools…” She paused, glancing over at Daud as he slowly made his way towards her, “Or even a soldier’s blade.”

Daud didn’t like they way she said that. Or the way she quickly turned to look out the window. Or the soft whispers that were now tugging at the back of his mind. Behind him, Bains was winding up the music box, the click of the mechanism seeming to sink up with his steps as he approached the Lady.

She glanced over her shoulder, regarding him wearily. He could imagine the prayers and wishes she was conjuring in her head, pleading that he didn’t know what she had. This would make his job both easier and harder. She wouldn’t expect that he was here to take her, but she was also afraid that he might attack her. Daud took the last few steps to close the gap between them carefully.

In her heeled boots, she was eye to eye with him. There was something eerily familiar about the way she was looking at him. Click, click, click. The music box turning over was the only sound in the room. He could see her holding her breath, her muscles tensing. He had to say something. He couldn’t ignore the now persistent chorus in the back of his mind that confirmed what she had tucked to hastily out of sight.

“The damn thing is broken.” Bains announced gruffly.

She flinched at the sound of him smacking the top of the box. “Was it working when you departed?”

Daud didn’t his turn his attention from her. “I was simply given a package to deliver. Perhaps you could…”

Click. Click. Click. The box continued to click irritatingly. Bains smacked it again. “Stupid trinket.” The Captain muttered, “I don’t understa…”

The Captain’s sentence was cut off by a sputtering cough and a thud. Daud turned to see the man crumpled on the floor. The lid of the music box was open, a blue-tinted fog spilling lazily out of it. Fuck, he thought. The screech of an old hinge and the sound of boots on wood brought his attention back to Argent, who was already halfway out the window. Fuck. He lunged forward, managing to grab her ankle. She kicked out hard, catching him on the chin, and managing to slip from his grip. Fuck!

He tossed the Overseer mask aside and went out the window after her, diving into the harbor. As soon as he broke the surface, shaking the water out of his eyes, he was after her. Any Serkonan worth their salt was a strong swimmer and she had already put a good distance between them. “Argent!” he called after her.

Anything to make her pause as she made her way towards the dock, anything to help him close the distance. Daud felt something slide past his leg and he fought the urge to cringe. Just a fish probably, he told himself, trying to think about the closing distance between him and his target. But then something else bumped against him and he felt teeth sink into his arm. Hagfish. He gripped the wretched thing, digging his fingers into its gills until it released.

He heard a yelp and turned just in time to see Argent disappear under the water. He began to question if his growing reputation and the money was worth it, but he swam after her anyway. Diving down, he pushed his way past wriggling bodies and sharp teeth, hooking an arm around her waist. He reached out and within a flash, they were away from the swarm.

Transversing underwater was difficult; you had to resist the natural urge to breathe in after and he could tell by the way his quarry thrashed against him, she hadn’t been able to fight the reaction. One more reach and they were close enough to the walkway that he could break the surface and pull her up out of the water.

He climbed up, dumping her down onto the dock next to him and laid there for a moment, trying to catch his breath. She coughed and wretched and shuddered but made no move to escape. Telling himself the hard part was over, he got up and crouched next to Argent.

She was a bit worse for wear, her clothes were torn and ruined. She had some nasty bites on every limb and on her torso. Still she regarded him with a fierce look that may have worried a lesser man. “Would you like to try anything else?” he asked.

“If you’re going to arrest me…”

“Do you think an Overseer would have jumped in after you?”

He scooped her up with a grunt and, when it became clear she had no energy to fight him, made his way down the dock towards the nearest culvert. He didn’t like that the music box had been a trap. It meant someone was trying to undercut him. If he could get somewhere secure enough, he could get to the bottom of this. He transverse rapidly up into the culvert, knowing well the sewer entrance hidden inside. He hated the sewers, but he needed to get out of view as quickly as possible. Argent shivered against him and gripped his arm tight. “You’re… you’re not with the Abbey, are you?”

He had nearly forgotten about the thing she’d slipped into her pocket on the ship. The whispers of the void were so familiar that he had tuned them out. He chuckled. “And why might you think the Abbey is out to arrest you?”

“I…”

He stopped and set her on her feet, but maintained his grip on her waist. “Do you know what they do to witches?” he offered as he slid a hand into her pocket.

She stiffened, diverting her gaze as he produced a bone charm from her pocket. “I’m not a witch.” She said firmly.

He closed his fist around the charm, trying to decide if he believed her. No witch he had known ever needed to jump from a window to escape an attacker. “Your heresy is… what, scholarly then? Happened upon a forbidden artifact on accident?” He steered her through the sewer entrance, “I’m sure they will understand.”

“I don’t have to justify myself to you.” She snapped.

“No.” he agreed, “You don’t. So I suppose you won’t mind me taking it off your hands.”

She grabbed his wrist, trying to wrestle it from him. “You have no idea what it took to find that thing.” She hissed between gritted teeth, “I will not let some brutish oaf abuse it.”

She was surprisingly strong. He let her have it without a fight, amused at her determination to keep the thing. She stumbled back and fell as she found herself off balance with her own force. Argent laid on the ground, breathing heavily as she held the charm to her chest. “So you are willing to pay the price?” he taunted, testing her arrogance, “Ready to spare your teeth? Ready to lose your hair? Your youth?”

She sat up, defiance in her eyes. “What price did you pay to do what you can do?”

That was a good response. He pulled her roughly to her feet. “I think you should stop talking now.”

They stood nose to nose for a moment, Daud silently daring her to make a move. “May I ask where you’re taking me?”

“No.”

It was a miserable and soggy trek through the sewers to the safehouse. His boots squelched uncomfortably, and his clothes clung to his skin. To her credit, Argent remained silent the entire time. The only sound was the splashing of water and the silent whispers of the bone charm she had put back into her pocket. And she remained silent when they climbed out onto the streets, when he grabbed her and transversed up to the third floor of the nearby apartment building and rapped on the window. The two Whalers stationed inside managed to look sheepish despite being masked. “Boss…”

“Choose your next words carefully.” He warned, steering Argent to sit down on the lone chair in the abandoned apartment.

“Overseer Shaw was found unconscious outside of the walls of the Abbey.” One said.

“The man we intercepted seems to have… also been hired by Kenton.” The other added.

Argent laughed harshly. “Kenton?” She looked at Daud, “Kenton hired you to kidnap me? And he hired two assassins?” She laughed again, but winced, putting a hand to her side, “I knew the man was an idiot, but not that much of an idiot.”

Daud ignored all of them and stepped out of the room. He rubbed his face, letting himself feel tired for a moment. He couldn’t let this stand; if he let these nobles walked over him, his reputation would be nothing, but he also wanted to get paid. And leaving Argent at Kenton’s hands was leaving an increasingly bitter taste in his mouth. He glanced back at her, as she stared down his Whalers, legs crossed, and arms folded across her chest. Perhaps he could use one problem to solve another.

He turned and stepped back into the room. “Boss, what do you want…”

“Clothes.” He interrupted. “I want a change of clothes.”

They both disappeared without another word, evaporating into shadows. Argent’s eyes widened, but she said nothing. He stood in front of her, arms crossed, matching her posture, watching her “Are you still determined to hold on to that charm?”

*******

Lord Kenton nearly shit himself when Daud marched Argent into his office. The noble dropped the glass he had been nursing. The drink spilled across the floor as it shattered against the hardwood. “You…” His face had lost all color, looking as if he might vomit, “You…”

“Lady Argent.” Daud said, shoving her down into the chair across the desk from Kenton, “As requested.”

“She’s… filthy.”

“You never made requirements for her state.”

“She’s bloody.”

Kenton was complaining that she was bloody and yet he intended to ‘break her’. Daud leaned forward, bracing himself against the front of the desk. “My payment.”

The lord sat there for a moment, eyes bulging and mouth moving without sound, doing his best impression of a dying fish. “She’s…”

“Very interested in what plans you have, Edgar.” Argent said, “If you were willing to hire this man, I can only imagine the horrors you have turning in your mind.”

“You… You are afraid.”

This seemed to snap him out of it a little. A single tear rolled down Argent’s cheek. “Yes.” She said, her voice cracking.

Daud swallowed his amusement and continued to stare down Kenton expectantly. It took a few more moments of the lord staring at Argent and Daud staring at him, but his hand finally moved to the desk drawer, retrieving a coin purse. It never hit the desk. He left without looking back, exiting out onto the balcony and into the night.

*****

Daud was at his desk when a Whaler appeared at his elbow, letter in hand. Calling it a letter was generous. It simply gave a location, stating that he come alone. Most requests came this way. Nobles loved the ominous drama. He recognized the address as Lord Kenton’s estate. He also found his attention drawn to the greeting: ‘Salvē Lupum’.

Even if he had no wish to ever see the lord’s face again, he was nonetheless intrigued and found himself on the office balcony at the indicated time. The doors were open, curtains moving with the light breeze. Inside however, was pitch dark. Alarm pricked across his skin. Was the lord really bold enough to try and silence him?

He stepped inside, alert for any movement, and was immediately greeted by the scent of charred wood. In the weak light filtering in from the open doors, he could see the scorch marks on the floor. He felt the movement before he heard it, as someone stepped out of the dark. “Salvē, Lupum.”

Annoyingly, he recognized the voice just as much as he recognized the silver mask. The thief snapped her fingers and the hearth came to life, the new fire illuminating the carnage of what had been the Lord Kenton’s office. The shelves and their contents had crumbled. The walls and floor were black and covered in ash. The great door that led to the rest of the estate hung limply off its hinges, cracked in half. All that remained standing was Kenton’s desk, though thoroughly blackened and looking as if a single breath would send it crumbling to dust. Behind it sat the remains of what had to be Kenton. Withered and shriveled in his great chair.

The thief approached him cautiously, no doubt keeping their last meeting in mind. Under her one arm was tucked a small wooden box. She offered him her other hand. In it was the knife he had tucked into Argent’s pocket in the hope she would take care of things herself, hilt facing him. He took it, not looking away from that silver mask. She then held out a coin purse. “The lady sends her regards.”

“So you aren’t just a thief.”

The corner of her mouth twitched. “Many people owe the lady favors. I am simply repaying mine.”

She moved past him, making her way towards the balcony. “Oh,” She paused, turning to look back at him, “And the lady finds your terms agreeable. You will find her a useful asset.”

Daud watched her disappear over the railing. The fire died in the hearth unnaturally fast and he once again found himself in the dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> May seem a little OOC but I figured Daud made his fair share of mistakes in his youth.  
> Feedback is highly appreciated!


End file.
